Of Love and Pink Ribbons
by T3hWh1t3P4nth3r
Summary: Draco has stopped tormenting the Golden Trio... But why? He's having some SERIOUS problems, along with my usual dose of 'abused by his father'.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Ok, so I'm a bit upset with 2 certain reviews I got on my 'Jealousy' fic. I'm perfectly fine with criticism, but PLEASE make it CONSTRUCTIVE! Just posting "You suck" is just plain rude. Not to mention, it's a waste of YOUR time to post it and a waste of MY time to read it. I made the choice to open it so that people without an account could review and give FEEDBACK! I did NOT do it so people can read my story, not like it (for some reason that I don't know since "You suck" was all I got from you, and you know who you are) and then be a bitch about it. I realize everyone is entitled to their opinion, but just try to be a bit more respectful with it, or at least give me a fucking reason as to why you hated the story so much. And please, when reading the stories, don't say "Who would ever pick Draco over Harry? No one!" especially when the character doing that is PANSY! I mean, you realize how stupid you looked for posting that, right? And also, for the one that was trying to say something about my grammar (I think…) check your own before you criticize mine, since I could barely understand your review.

Anyway, on a (somewhat) lighter note, this story is about Draco. He is having a very serious problem in his life, and not just my usual 'He's abused by his father' stuff, though that will come into play later. Also, this is going to be a Drarry. No like= you crazy and no read. Not 100% sure where this is gonna go, but bear with me ok?

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Hermione stood at the podium, trying her best not to burst into tears. She cleared her throat and took in a deep breath. "If anyone ever asked me what I thought about him a month ago, I would've said that he was the most selfish, weak, pathetic, narcissistic person I had ever met." A few tears rolled down her cheek. "But I was so wrong… He was dealing with… with so much, but he never let on to any of it…" She choked up completely. She simply shook her head, indicating that she couldn't continue, and went down to her seat.

Harry stepped up. "I know there are many of you that still don't really care about him, and then there are you that don't even understand how he died." He sounded far gloomier than anyone had ever heard him before. "So, I'm going to share a little story with you. A story about the REAL Draco Malfoy: The one that I learned a lot about in the last few weeks of his life." A few tears glistened in his eyes as he spoke, threatening to fall. "And I'm just gonna tell you now: it's not a very happy story…" Harry pulled up a chair, wiped the tears from his eyes and began his tale…

Note: Incredibly short chapter, I know. But this was just a little thing to get it started. And, I'll have you know, that I started crying when I was writing the eulogy. So I seriously hope that some of you cried too, that way I don't feel stupid… Review, let me know what you thought, let me know what you think killed him, and let me know if you cried. THANX!


	2. Chapter 2

Authors note: Here's chapter two. It's a flashback just cuz I didn't want to write the whole thing out as Harry telling the story. But this is his story, just from a perspective other than his own, though I kinda sorts tried to pop his personality in there a bit. Not very much, but maybe you'll be able to pick up on it... Does that make any sort of sense? I hope so… Anyway, I will let you know when it goes back to the "present" time. Please review.

*Flashback to 1 month earlier*

Everyone thought they knew the selfish prat. Mean, spiteful, vindictive, cruel, sarcastic, well, you know… He was the one that was there to make everyone else's life a living hell, and they all had to admit: He was pretty good at it. In a way, people kind of respected him for that, though. He always, somehow, knew what to say or do to get under people's skin. Ron, Hermione and Harry were constant targets. So, naturally, when he let up on all the insults and taunts, the three got a little suspicious. Of course, they didn't really want to complain at first. After all, he was finally leaving them alone. However, Harry started to keep an eye on him a bit, thinking that the blond was going to pull something. In doing so, he noticed that Draco seemed to be losing weight, which was obviously really bad since the blonde was a twig in the first place.

So, he decided to talk to him about it. See what was going on. One night after dinner, Harry caught him in the hall. He had grabbed his left arm and led him into a side corridor, one that was rarely used. The taller boy put up little resistance, though he did gasp in protest. "Ah, easy…" he hissed, barely above a whisper.

Harry watched the Slytherin slide down the wall clutching at his chest, a pained look on that porcelain pale face. "What's happened to you, Malfoy?" Draco looked up, a bit taken aback by the concern lacing Harry's words.

"Why do you give a damn, Potter?" Due to his weakened voice, the statement wasn't nearly as effective as he had hoped it would be. In an attempt to compensate, he glared at the dark-haired boy.

"Well, it's just…" Harry reached up to the back of his neck, feeling a bit awkward. "You haven't been messing with us, and you've been losing weight, and… Well, I'm concerned, alright? It's what I do…"

Draco gave a light scoff. "You're concerned? Well, don't bother…" he said, standing up a bit shakily. "I'm fine…" Harry rushed forward just in time to catch the other boy as he lost consciousness.

Harry was about to call out for help before he remembered that everyone had returned to their common rooms by that point. Knowing it would be a bad idea to leave him and go GET someone, he decided that he would just carry Draco down to the hospital wing himself. Sliding his arms under the fallen boy's lithe frame, he braced himself for the lift. But, to his surprise, it wasn't difficult to lift the boy in the slightest. "I guess he must've lost more weight than I thought …" Then again, Harry had never lifted Draco before, so how would he have known what to expect? _'Man! He weighs, like, nothing. There's NO WAY that can be good…' _Harry thought as he made his way down the last few flights of stairs.

He entered the hospital wing, with an unconscious Draco Malfoy in his arms, bridal style. Needless to say, Madame Pomfrey was alarmed (probably on multiple levels). "What happened?!" she asked, bustling over to him and leading him over to an empty bed. "Lay him there." Harry did as he was told. "Now, explain what happened." She had a steely look in her eyes as she watched the Gryffindor fidget.

"Well, umm…" Harry started, still a wee bit shell-shocked. "I honestly don't know. I pulled him aside to talk to him, he sat down, and when he stood back up he passed out. And he's been losing a lot of weight lately and he seems really weak. I don't know if that helps but…" She started to shoo him out. "Oh, wait!" he said. "When he sat down, he was clutching at his chest… Like he was hurt really bad." He stopped and watched as Madame Pomfrey's eyes bulged slightly.

"Why wasn't that the FIRST thing you told me?! This could be serious, Potter!" She undid the buttons of Draco's shirt. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw no marks on his pale skin. Her hand glided over the smooth skin as she examined him, checking for any possible fractures. She gasped and put a hand to her mouth, turning away, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Curious, Harry asked her what she had felt. She simply shook her head. He went and placed his hand just above the Slytherin's heart.

"Oh shit…" he muttered when he felt it. Inside of Draco's left breast, just below the nipple, was a lump, about 3-4 centimeters in diameter. Harry turned, wide-eyed to Madame Pomfrey. "It isn't… Is it?"

She nodded her head, looking like she was on the verge of sobbing. "Yes," she said, slightly choked. "Yes, it's breast cancer. I knew that it was possible, but I have never actually heard of a male getting breast cancer. It's very rare. 1 in 1000 men will get it, and, unfortunately, it would appear that Mr. Malfoy is that 1…" She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. "Potter, please go fetch the professors and the headmaster." Harry nodded and dashed from the room.

He returned 15 minutes later, racing as fast as he could. But still, Snape had burst through the doors first and hurried over to the pale boy's side. "This can't be…" he muttered, though his hand was covering the lump that proved it to be true. "How could this happen?" He sounded highly distraught, tears rolling from his eyes as he gazed at the unconscious form of his godson. Harry had never known the potions master to be able to express any kind of emotion, let alone such deep, heart breaking sorrow. "Is there nothing that can be done?' he asked Madame Pomfrey, watery eyed.

Her lip quivered and her tears once again began to fall as she shook her head. "No, I'm afraid there is nothing we can do, Severus. He cannot get the proper treatment that he needs here, as the muggle devices will not work. And taking him to a proper facility would take too long. Not to mention it would be nearly impossible to get parental consent to take him there. Lucius would never allow his son to be admitted into a muggle hospital." She dabbed her eyes once again. "I'm afraid… He'll just have to stay here." She was sobbing freely now, desperately trying to finish what she was saying. "All we can do now is hope, wish, and pray that he can pull through…" With that, she fled, sobbing, to her office.

Snape laid his head on the bedside table. His shoulders began to tremble, and Harry knew that the black clad man was silently crying. Harry glanced around at the other professors, all of whom had tears in their eyes. McGonagall and Trelawny were furiously wiping tears from their cheeks. Harry could feel them welling in his own eyes as he was hit with the full reality of the situation: Draco was going to die, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Note: Another pretty short one, I know. I'm hoping to have the next chapter up soon. Please review and let me know what you think so far. Also, for the record, men CAN get breast cancer. It's very rare but it does happen. With stories like this, I do my research. Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it.


	3. Chapter 3

Authors note: K, so… yeah. Now we know the MAIN problem with him, but… Is that ALL that's going wrong in his life? Come on. You all know that I'm a bit of a bitch to dear Draco. Obviously, there's going to be SOMETHING else going on… Enjoy and review please. Keep it constructive and respectful, please.

After she had calmed herself, McGonagall broke the emotional silence. "Enough of this foolishness. Crying never solved anything. We have to think about this rationally and we can't do that while we're drowning in our own tears."

"Minerva is right," Dumbledore said. "Now, I think it would be a good idea to have someone keeping an eye on him: Someone who, if anything should happen, would keep a level head and inform Madame Pomfrey, rather than panic." He looked to Harry. "And I think you should be the one to do it, Harry."

Harry was slightly stunned. Why should HE be the one to watch over Malfoy? Why couldn't Snape do it? He knew better than to try to argue with the old man, though. It was just a waste of breath, seeing as Dumbledore always knew what was best and what he was doing. Harry gave a curt nod. "Yes, professor…" He hoped that the irritation hadn't been too prevalent in his voice.

The professors decided that they should take their leave, but Snape did not notice their departure. It was only when Professor McGonagall came back and retrieved him that he, too, left the fair boy's side. Harry pulled a chair over next to the bed. _'Well, this'll be heaps of fun…' _he thought sarcastically. _'Nothing more exciting than watching Malfoy sleep.'_ He rolled his eyes and let out a long, drawn out sigh. His gaze flitted around the room, ending up back on Draco's sleeping form. A small smirk spread over his face. _'He looks pretty peaceful… His hair is a bit messier than usual… He's kinda cute asleep, actually…" _He sat up sharply, realizing what he had just thought. _"Whoa! Back up! There is no way that I just thought that Draco Bloody Malfoy is cute when he sleeps!'_ He was pulled from his thoughts when the blond stirred. He shifted positions slightly, a pained expression on his face, and his hand, clenched into a fist, went up to his left breast. A faint moan escaped the blonde's lips. _'It's hurting him? But I thought they weren't supposed to hurt…'_ He decided he should probably tell Madame Pomfrey, but when he stood to go get her, she was already out.

She had a hand to her mouth, shaking her head. "It shouldn't be hurting him like that…" She went over and gently put a hand to his forehead. "He's burning up…" She looked stumped. "But that isn't a symptom…"

Harry couldn't stop himself from voicing his concerns. "You don't think he's sick with something else on top of all this, do you?" He glanced down at his rival of 6 years, feeling sorrier and sorrier for the boy. He felt a pang of guilt. _'How often did I call him weak, oblivious to the reasons behind it? And here, what I've called weakness is actually Malfoy being incredibly strong. Especially if it's been causing him that much pain…' _He looked down at his lap._ 'And I'm sure it didn't help that I'm always getting into a row with him...' _Harry felt sick to his stomach as the guilty thoughts continued to press to the front of his mind.

Madame Pomfrey shook her head, unable to deduce what had caused the boy's fever and pain. "I guess people just react differently to the invasion of the disease…" She pulled out a small potion bottle, ladling a generous amount into a spoon. "This should bring down his fever and help soothe the pain." She tilted the fair boys head up and poured the thick, blue liquid through his parted lips. With that, she headed back to her office, seemingly lost in thought. She was still trying to make sense of everything.

Harry watched as the boy's body relaxed, the medicine taking effect. Harry sighed. He wanted nothing more than to go back to Gryffindor tower and go to sleep. As he watched the blonde's chest rise and fall, in peaceful sleep, he began nodding off. His sleep was dreamless and brief.

He woke about an hour and a half later. Draco was still asleep. He let out a slight sigh of relief, glad that nothing had happened since he fell asleep. _'Dumbledore trusted me to keep an eye on him. If something happened to him because I fell asleep, Dumbledore would be disappointed in me. That's why I'm worrying…' _he tried to reason with himself. He refused to admit that he might have 'feelings' for the boy in front of him. He had tried to keep his mind off of that the whole night, to little avail.

He started slightly when Draco moved. His pale hand moved up to his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Harry held his breath as his pale lids slid up slowly, revealing clear, silver orbs. His eyes widened as he sat up abruptly. "What the-?!" He looked around the room before his gaze landed on the boy sitting by his bed. "What the bloody hell happened?! Why am I in the hospital wing? And, more importantly, why are YOU here, Potter?"

"In that order: You passed out. I brought you here. And Dumbledore told me to keep an eye on you in case something happened." His tone shifted from slightly annoyed to one filled with caring and concern. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, fantastic…" he said sarcastically. His hand slid unconsciously up to his chest. His gaze shifted down to his lap, covered by the sheet. "I suppose you think I'm weak…"

"No," Harry's words held no hesitation, no hint of sarcasm. "I think just the opposite, actually. If you've dealt with all the pain that this has caused you without even letting on to it once, then I think you're pretty damn strong. Foolish, for not telling anyone about it, but strong…"

A weak smirk crept on to the blonde's lips. "Well, being foolish is something that I seem to excel in. That's all my life has been, it seems: Foolish mistakes." Harry was about to ask him to elaborate when Madame Pomfrey strode in with a tray of breakfast for Draco.

"You need to eat, Mr. Malfoy. You've lost an alarming sum of weight since you were in here last." She shot a quick glance at Harry. The last time Malfoy had been in the hospital wing was after Harry had hit him with 'Sectumsempra'. She set the tray next to him on the bedside table. Draco didn't move. "Harry, do make sure that he eats."

Harry looked at Draco. "I don't know if you actually looked at it, but it looks pretty good. You should eat-"

"I'm not hungry." Draco cut in flatly, his eyes never leaving the sheets.

"Not big on breakfast?" Harry asked.

"Not big on food in general lately." He looked up into Harry's confused face. "I just… Don't seem to have an appetite anymore…"

"How long has your appetite been gone?" Harry tried to keep his voice calm despite the concern filling his brain.

"About 3 weeks…" Draco responded weakly. "I've had a piece of toast or a handful of grapes now and then, but other than that…" He shrugged. "I can't seem to keep anything of substance down, so I just don't eat."

Harry's eyes widened. "Malfoy! That is SO unhealthy! Why didn't you come and talk to Madame Pomfrey sooner!?"

He began fiddling with the sheets. "It… didn't seem all that important at the time…" His voice is low and soft, sounding almost ashamed.

"Well, does it seem important NOW?!" He hadn't intended to, but Harry knew that he had snapped his comment at the other boy. To his surprise, the blonde cringed slightly.

"Are you mad at me?" Draco's voice was lightly laced with worry and anxiety. As if he truly feared he had upset Harry.

Harry reached out and turned Draco's face to look at him. He let out a small gasp, and Harry saw an extremely distant look in the pale grey eyes. It seemed like Draco wasn't entirely there. Harry shook his shoulders lightly, to snap him out of it. "Draco. Draco I need you to focus on me, ok? I'm not gonna hurt you or anything. And I'm not mad, ok? I'm just concerned." Draco's eyes cleared and focused on Harry.

He tilted his head down and Harry saw a few tears fall on to the bed. What had happened to the boy that Harry thought he knew? Where was the boy who lived to make his life as difficult as possible and never seemed to run out of snide comments? What had happened that had broken the Slytherin Ice Prince so completely?

Note: This is where I'm ending this chapter. Nice little cliffhanger for you. Please review. Any guesses as to what "Broke" him? If so, feel free to share.


	4. Chapter 4

Authors note: It's about time that I got back to work on this. Along with my other WIPs… *Rubs back of neck lightly, feeling awkward* My bad… Hopefully I'll be able to get at least one more chapter of each up relatively soon. Unless I get on a roll, in which case you can expect more than one. So, again, I'm sorry. Hope you like it.

Harry had tried to get Draco to tell him what he had 'seen' when he had spaced out, but the Slytherin refused to say anything. With a sigh, Harry had dropped the subject, trying instead to get the blonde to eat something.

"Come on, Malfoy! Don't be a prat. You have to eat something…" Harry had spent the last half hour trying to tempt the boy into eating a bit of sausage. As he had anticipated, the Slytherin promptly shot down every attempt.

After a moment, though, Draco reached over and grabbed a fresh strawberry from the bowl. "Happy now?" he asked once he had swallowed the first bite.

Harry put down the fork he was holding and crossed his arms, pretending to be upset. "So, what? You'll take a strawberry but my sausage isn't good enough for you?"

The Gryffindor was surprised when Draco chuckled. "I'm going to say 'No!' to that one…" He continued to laugh under his breath.

Harry looked confused. "I don't see what's so-" Suddenly, it clicked. "Oh, God! I didn't mean it like THAT!" Draco simply started to laugh harder. Harry couldn't help but chuckle too, shaking his head. "You're twisted…"

"Well, you're just as twisted since you knew where my mind went. Just a bit slower…" He smirked victoriously as Harry tried to think of a witty retort, to no avail. "Anyway," Draco said, leaning back on to the pillow. "I didn't take it because I don't eat meat."

Harry's eyebrows rose slightly, not expecting that. "You're a vegetarian?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "No…" he said sarcastically. "I mean, they're only the same thing after all."

"How long?" Harry asked.

"Since third year. There was no specific reason for the switch, I just decided to. I didn't eat much meat before, anyway, so it wasn't a hard swap." Though the conversation was the most civil that the two boys had ever had, there was still a noticeable tension between them.

Harry nodded in consideration. "I've thought about it, but I can never will myself to do it." He shrugged. "I guess I just like steak too much…"

Madame Pomfrey came in. She looked at the tray and saw the top of the strawberry. She let out a small sigh. "Is that really all you're going to eat, Mr. Malfoy?"

"It took half an hour for him to finally decide to eat anything what so ever," Harry said.

"I would say that your eating habits aren't the best, Mr. Malfoy, but there don't seem to BE any eating habits with you. If you're not going to eat, then at the very least drink plenty of water or juice. I don't need you passing out on me…" She conjured a pitcher of water and a glass on to the bedside table and left muttering something to herself.

Without entirely thinking, Harry poured Draco a glass and handed it to him. The blonde smirked as he took it. "Well, thank you, Nurse Potter…"

Harry scoffed lightly and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Force of habit… I'm used to having to get everything for my cousin and…" He looked up and was met by an intent silver stare. "You know what?" he said standing. "I don't need to be telling you all this. Besides, you probably don't even care, so…"

Draco grabbed his wrist as he turned away. "Oh, no you don't, Potter. Sit down and tell me. I'm curious. I've heard all sorts of rumors about the muggles you live with, but I want it from the source." He directed Harry back to the chair and the Gryffindor sat. "Now, talk."

Harry rolled his eyes, not surprised in the slightest by how bossy the Slytherin prince was being. "Where do you want me to start then?"

"I would suggest you start the story like a normal person: at the beginning." Draco turned to face Harry as he spoke, pulling his knees up to his chest as he waited for the raven haired boy to begin.

Harry sighed. "I feel like you probably know most of it already… After my parents were killed I was sent to live with my aunt and uncle as well as their son. I was given Dudley's old clothes, which were far too large on me, and a cupboard under the stairs was my room." He gave a light scoff. "They hated me, and I never knew why… I didn't think much of it, though.  
I just dealt with it. I was given every chore, every shout, every lecture, every smack and shove… When my letter first arrived, my uncle intercepted and destroyed it. More and more came until it drove him mad. He took us to a shack in the middle of nowhere, out in the sea. When midnight struck and it was my birthday, the door was kicked in by Hagrid…" He chuckles. "He gave Dudley a pig's tail. My aunt and uncle threw a fit…" A small smile graced Draco's lips for a fleeting moment. "And after that, you know the rest." Harry leaned back in his chair. "After all, the rest pretty much happened here…"

Draco looked at him, his head tilted slightly. "Then what about the dementor attack last year? What about you blowing your aunt up third year? Why were you late second year? That's the extent that anyone really knows. No one knows why it all happened, how it all happened…"

"Well, what about you, then?" Harry wanted to change the subject. He never really liked telling his life story. "Surely you have some stories to tell?"

Draco seemed to shrink away. "None that anyone would want to hear… Unless they're in the mood for a tragedy… In which case, I would recommend _Hamlet_."

Harry leans forward. "Alright, now it's your turn to tell me a story. You can't honestly expect me to let you leave it at that."

Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's complicated…" The Gryffindor gives him a somewhat pointed look. "Father and I don't exactly see eye to eye…"

"Meaning?" Harry had a pretty good idea what the fair boy meant, but was seriously hoping that he had interpreted wrong. "I mean, he doesn't… do anything to you. Right?"

Draco turned his gaze further from The Boy Who Lived. "Wish I could say it were…" His voice is barely audible, yet the words hit Harry like a tsunami.

"Oh my God…" The Gryffindor is slightly stunned. "What… What does he do? Don't answer if you're not comfortable…"

"He's done a lot…" Draco didn't seem to want to say anything more, and Harry knew better than to push it. So, he decided to change the subject.

"So, what are some things that you like to do?" He donned a gentle smile. "Quidditch is a given…"

Draco shook his head. "I'm actually not a huge fan of flying. I only joined the team second year because Father wanted me to…" He was quiet for a second. "And I would just like the record to show: I did make it in on my own. My father's 'gift' didn't arrive until about two days after. I was actually pretty pissed at him for not thinking that I could do it on my own…"

"Well," Harry said, trying to shift the subject away from Lucius. "If you don't like quidditch, what do you like?"

Draco chuckled lightly as he thought for a moment. "Umm… I like music… I draw a bit. Nothing extraordinary, but… I can play piano…" He shook his head lightly, a small smile on his lips. "I guess I've never put much thought into it…"

"What do you like to draw?" Harry found the idea of Draco being an artist rather amusing for some reason.

"I've drawn a few people, some students and professors and such. I draw a lot of still life. I've got about six of the lake from different perspectives or in different seasons." The boys' eyes met for a fleeting second. Harry could swear he had seen the glimmer of a smile on the Slytherin's face. Draco looked away first. "Anyway…" he continued. "They aren't all that good…"

"I'd like to see them sometime." The words had fallen from the Boy Wonder's lips before he had even let his brain process them.

Once more, Madame Pomfrey came bustling in. "I hate to break this up, but you need to get going, Mr. Potter. Classes will be starting soon. Besides, Mr. Malfoy needs to rest."

Harry nodded and stood from his chair. "Feel better, Draco…" he said before he turned to leave. He felt a small smile form on his lips as the doors swung shut behind him. Was this really happening? Could it even be possible for these two boys who had hated each other for years to get along? As strange as the idea of become almost friends with his rival was, he kind of liked it.

Similar thoughts run through the blonde's mind. A hand combed through his hair as he thought. After about the tenth time of the witch telling him to rest, Draco finally decided to lay his head down and close his eyes. He did not dream; his sleep an empty, blissful darkness.

Note: Sorry it took me so long, guys. The point of this chapter was just to show that they're starting to hate each other less and less. There are still a few snarky comments to come, never fear. Tell me what you thought.


End file.
